Fugitive
by Lord Dreadnault
Summary: Co-authored with Viper Punk 66- Pre OotPPost GoF The Ministry charges Harry for the murder of Cedric. Harry flees the country and begins a whole new and exciting life. But he cannot escape his destiny forever. . .
1. Default Chapter

Official Note From Lord Dreadnault: 

  
  


This is a fic that I've been co-authoring for about a week when I've burned out for the day on HLH. :) It is in no way connected to any of my other written works and it certainly will not be updated as often. Please review so we know whether or not to continue it. :)

  
  


Disclaimer: The authors recognize that they don't own HP or any associated characters. No profit is being made, blah blah blah. 

  
  


Fugitive

Lord Dreadnault & Viper Punk 66

  
  


Harry sat up and rubbed his eyes blearily late one night as he woke up to an insistent tapping at his bedroom window. He had arrived home at Privet Drive precisely one week ago and had not done much since. The events of the last year still somewhat depressed him and nightmares of Cedric's death and Voldemort's rising still haunted him rather than the dreams of Voldemort and the pain of his scar. He had been lucky as far as he was concerned.

  
  


Climbing out of bed, he yawned and proceeded to walk towards the window to open it and admit the owl entrance. It was a rather handsome and official looking owl and Harry figured that it was not a letter from Ron or Hermione.

  
  


He took the stiff parchment letter from the owl's leg and broke the Ministry of Magic seal as the owl let himself out of the open bedroom window. He unfolded the letter and began to read the formal letter.

  
  


Mr. Harry J. Potter,

  
  


The Office of Magical Law Enforcement formally and officially

charges you with the murder of Cedric Diggory on the night of 

the Tri-Wizard Tournament at an un-determined location.

Ministry law enforcement officials will be arriving at your 

place of residence shortly to take you into official custody

where you shall be detained until your trial. 

You will be briefed more completely upon your arrest.

  
  
  
  


Harry stared at the letter in shock and slowly perused the contents of the indictment a second time around. His mind reeling, he set the letter down slowly and began to numbly think. How. . . could they? Thanks to this charge he wouldn't be able to show his face anywhere in public and could expect no help from the Ministry or anyone not with Voldemort. Then again, Voldemort was trying to kill him as well. Not only that, if he didn't move quickly the Ministry would get him.

  
  


Harry quickly began to pack. He would think once he was safely away from the Ministry's grasp. Using a quick Organization and Packing charm he packed his trunk with all of his belongings that he remotely valued. Textbooks, robes, broomstick, and other various things. He left his Invisibility Cloak and wand outside of the trunk. It would be wise to keep those objects close at hand. 

  
  


After checking the small room for any sign of his belongings, including the floor board under his bed he turned his wand towards his trunk and shrunk it. It was not as small as he had hoped but it would have to do. He quickly dressed and shoved the shrunken trunk, which was now about the size of a medium-sized pocket book, into his pants pocket. 

  
  


After taking one last look around his room he noticed Hedwig watching him from her cage. Harry grimaced as he came up with an appropriate solution. "I'm sorry Hedwig, but I must go." Harry whispered to the white owl. "It's dangerous for me to stay. Go out into the wild and stay there for a few days before coming to find me. That way it'll be safe."

  
  


Hedwig hooted reproachfully at the prospect of having to leave so quickly, but nevertheless complied to Harry's request. Harry watched as she flew away after exiting the window. It was almost like losing a friend for a short while. However, they wouldn't be able to trace him now. 

  
  


Harry unfolded the Invisibility Cloak with a flourish and set it upon his shoulders watching himself disappear in the cracked bedside mirror. First objective, Harry though hurriedly. Get away from this location and then plan your next move. Fortunately he knew just the place to go to.

*

  
  


Harry looked left and right to check for any people out for a late stroll. Seeing none, he relaxed and sat down on the playground bench. He was a goodly distance away from the Dursley's and so long as he didn't practice any magic, the Ministry would not find him. He drew the cloak tighter around him in an attempt to insure that he was as invisible as possible.

  
  


Both Voldemort and the Ministry of Magic wish to apprehend me, Harry thought dully. It's simple enough to flee from the Ministry's grasp, just leave the country. Voldemort will chase me though. His evil knows no bounds. Perhaps I could leave the country, change my name and hide, and even then, be prepared. 

  
  


After thinking the same thoughts over and over, Harry finally settled on what seemed to be the only option. Flee the country, change his identity, and always be ready for the worst to happen. How would I survive though? Harry wondered. Suddenly a thought occurred to him, if he changed his identity he could certainly change his age. It would be simple enough to get a job in another country. He could train to be an Auror. That seemed to be the only thing he had an aptitude for. Well, there was Quidditch, but that was very much too public. 

  
  


Harry continued to plan for a couple of hours before standing up and making his way to Muggle transportation systems. If he changed his identity he would need to know what documentation of him already existed. That sort of stuff most likely had been stored in Gringotts after his parent's death. He would need to get into Diagon Alley early before many people were present.

*

  
  


Harry looked around at the street before dodging into the public restroom within Diagon Alley. It was well that Gringotts opened before normal business hours. Very few people were out and about yet and likely the public was not aware of the charges brought before him.

  
  


He nervously jabbed his hands into his pants pocket and pulled out a sheaf of various official looking pieces of parchment. Harry began to quickly sort through the documents. The first three documents were his and his parent's birth certificates. The other papers were official documentation of various things, grades, genealogy, and business transactions. Basically useless! Harry then came to the last document which turned out to be a very long list titled, "The Potter Estates."

  
  


Harry raised his eyebrows as he scanned the long list. It was a list of various bank accounts, vaults, properties, and investments that seemed to be all his. The vault he had access to seemed to be the smallest of them all. After the initial surprise wore off he began to scan the list for anything outside of Britain, and preferably outside of Europe. 

  
  


Finally a name from the list popped up. Creswell Manor in the American state of Massachusetts. He also had a sizeable bank account at the Salem branch of Gringotts. That would do fine. What about a job though? Harry decided that the subject could wait until he was actually in the U.S. 

  
  


He then turned his attention to the immediate situation. He would need a disguise. Hopefully the Ministry wouldn't notice any un-authorized magic within Diagon Alley. He pulled out the shrunken trunk, brought it back to its original size and then pulled out a basic spell book. He flipped to the index and looked up 'appearance'.

  
  


"Hair. . ." Harry muttered. "This one shouldn't be too hard. . ." He studied himself in the mirror and pointed his wand at his hair and prayed that nothing bad would happen. The spell provided the desired effect. His hair was now a little longer and no longer it's typical, messy, self.

  
  


Harry grinned, this was turning out to be a cinch. He returned to the book and picked out an eye-color charm. Since everyone was always talking about his green eyes he might as well make sure that they weren't conspicuous. This time he was vaguely nervous as he pointed the wand at his eyes. 

  
  


What if something went wrong? Would he be blind? He quietly said the spell and suddenly color exploded in his eyes blinding him. He put his hands over his eyes to block the bathroom lights which were making his eyes ache. After a minute the discomfort went away and Harry opened his eyes and looked into the mirror. The book had said that the color would be randomly chosen depending on the person. His eyes were now a brilliant shade of blue. Anyone worth their salt would spot it as magical. Perhaps Muggles would mistake them for contacts if they thought them strange. 

  
  


They won't mistake them for contacts if I'm wearing glasses, Harry realized. He quickly thumbed through the book and found a spell that would act like Muggle contacts but would wear off after six months. Harry shrugged and performed it. After taking off his glasses, which were now blurring everything up Harry returned to taking care of the rest of his appearance. 

  
  


Next he looked up 'aging of appearance' in the spell book and found several charms and spells that might accommodate him. This one he had to get just right. Not too old and certainly old enough. A very fine line indeed. He once again pointed t he wand at his face and muttered the incantation and then opened his eyes. The spell had aged him about two weeks. Harry rolled his eyes. "Get your act together Potter."

  
  


This time he was less nervous and shot the spell at himself quickly. When he opened his eyes he found a face old enough to be retired staring back at him. The spell had also touched his hair. It was now salt and pepper. "Bother!" Harry exclaimed in a voice that didn't match the face at all. He concentrated and performed the spell's remedy but not as strong as needed to restore him to his teenage face. When he opened his eyes he found the face of a person in his early twenties. "Absolutely perfect!" Harry declared.

  
  


Harry examined himself closely in the mirror. There was only one thing left that anyone could connect to Harry Potter. The scar. Harry tapped his finger on the sink as he studied the scar on his forehead. He perused two books but could find nothing that could hide it. He sighed, and tried to think. Finally he decided that once he left the country, it would not be as well known.

  
  


He glanced at his watch as he quickly packed his trunk and shrunk it to fit into his pocket. The next step would be to get out of the country as soon as possible. There had to be some sort of place where one could get magical transportation to another continent. 

  
  


Harry paused as he shoved everything into his pockets. What was him name now? James, he decided quickly, after his father. Middle name could simply be Harry, and he could draw his last name from where he was going, Creswell. James H. Creswell. Harry grinned and strode out of the public restroom and into Diagon Alley. 

*

  
  


Members of the Order of the Phoenix were rushing in and out of Grimmauld Place in a panic. Hermione pressed herself against a wall as another nameless member of the Order sped past and down to the kitchen where the Order was holding an urgent meeting. No one would tell them anything and the twin's Extendable Ears weren't able to pick anything up.

  
  


She made her way upstairs to the room where Ron and Ginny were waiting. She slipped in and sat down on a very worn chair. "They won't say anything and I can't hear what they're talking about. It can't be something that You-Know-Who did or it would have hit the front pages." she said to them.

  
  


Ginny sighed and Ron growled and began to speak angrily. "This is big! Why won't they let us in on it? And what about Harry? He should know about it too. Do you think he even knows that something is going on or is Dumbledore keeping him in the dark still?"

  
  


"Maybe it is something to do with Harry himself," Ginny said softly from the bed on which she was sitting.

  
  


Hermione shrugged and folded her arms trying to keep her composure. "I think that it may be connected to the Ministry somehow. Your dad is basically the only person not there and he sends an owl from the Ministry almost every fifteen minutes." 

  
  


"That's it! Ron exclaimed. "Fudge has gone and done something stupid and now we're all in trouble or worse. Either that or Voldemort is up to something right now."

  
  


Suddenly there was a loud pop and the twins appeared near the door. "Dumbledore just arrived!" Fred said excitedly. "Whatever has happened, he is really mad at Fudge."

  
  


"From what we can tell," George said, "Fudge made a really big mistake and now Dumbledore is trying to fix it before it leads to disaster."

  
  


"What kind of disaster?" Ginny asked.

  
  


"The worst kind," said Sirius Black as he entered the room catching them all by surprise. He grinned and Fred and George as he closed the door behind him, "You two, always eavesdropping. Just like the old days with James and I." He smiled at the memory.

  
  


"Will you tell us what happened?" Ron demanded half pleadingly and half demandingly.

  
  


Sirius sat down in another chair and cleared his throat, he appeared to be very angry and worried as well. "Late last night, the Ministry indicted Harry for the murder of Cedric Diggory."

  
  


The boy's mouths dropped open and Hermione and Ginny gasped loudly. "Is he going to Azkaban?" Hermione asked urgently.

  
  


"Well, that's the problem, isn't it?" Sirius answered. "Harry fled upon receiving the notice. Technically the correct thing to do if he wants to not be caught or sent to Azkaban, yet. . . it doesn't help us any either."

  
  


"Of course it's the best thing for him!" Ginny exclaimed. "What else would he do?"

  
  


Sirius grinned, "That's what makes it so complicated. In his flight from the Ministry he has put himself in danger from Voldemort."

  
  


"What is the Order doing? Can't we help?" The twins asked simultaneously.

  
  


Sirius shook his head, "That would be up to your mother. As to what the Order is doing, we're trying to find him before he goes to far or gets into any trouble." He stood up to leave. "I'll keep you updated on any developments. You might also think about where he might flee, that could help." The door closed quietly leaving five extremely shocked teenagers.

*

  
  


The transportation official examined Harry's ticket before saying anything. "Welcome to the United States of America Mr. Creswell." He stamped it with an official seal and date. "If you intend to remain in this country for more than six weeks, kindly register with the Office of the Secretary of Magic." 

  
  
  
  


A's/N: Please review. :)

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter Two

A/N-LD: The authors recognize that we cheated a little here and there in the last chapter. If you have any questions feel free to e-mail me at the address in my profile. There's also a Yahoo group where you can get updates to this and my other fics as well. (Also listed in profile) 

  
  


A/N2-LD: For my excuses about updating so slowly, refer to my Yahoo group.

  
  


Fugitive

Lord Dreadnault & Viper Punk 66

  
  


Harry made his way down the busy sidewalk towards the United States Department of Magic. He had managed to get some directions at an information kiosk. He had also picked up a few brochures that would help him find his way around. Harry had not taken a look at the brochures yet because he was busy gaping at the sites of New Camelot, the wizarding capital of the U.S. 

  
  


Searching his mind for memories of the few and far between lectures on international magic history from Professor Binns, Harry tried to come up with explanations for all of the strange things that he saw. 

  
  


It was blatantly obvious that there was no such thing as the Office of Misuse of Muggle Artifacts. Muggle vehicles tore up and down the streets and Harry could tell that although they were Muggle built, they were wizard modified. Harry finally came up with an explanation. The U.S. was a fairly young country and probably wouldn't know what a pure-blood was if they were smacked with one. The magical folk were all Muggle-born or half-bloods and therefore integrated with the best of both worlds.

  
  


Harry stuffed the brochures that he had been absently holding into his pocket as he approached a large building. Carved into the stone above the columns was the name of it, "The United States Department of Magic." The gigantic columns seemed to reflect those of typical Muggle, Federal government buildings. Muggle influence was indeed heavy. He made his way up the broad steps and into the building.

  
  


The inside resembled a rather typical office building. If a Muggle ever wandered in, he or she wouldn't even be able to tell there was any magic connected to it. Harry looked around nervously and trying to act the age he looked, stepped up to the reception desk. "I need to register for permanent residence in this country," Harry said in a voice that was as business-like as possible.

  
  


The middle-aged lady looked at him over her glasses before answering. "If you have a visa simply make your way to the Office of Immigration. If you have no visa you'll need to go to Mr. Andrews's office."

  
  


"I guess I need to go to Mr. Andrews's office," Harry said. He turned to leave but then remembered to ask where that was.

  
  


Before he could ask the lady pointed to an elevator, "Top floor," she said in a bored voice.

  
  


"Thank you," Harry said. He turned towards the elevator and stepped in just as a couple of men stepped out. The doors closed but the elevator didn't move. Harry searched around for some buttons but didn't find any. Great, he thought. I guess Muggle influence isn't complete. Finally he came up with an idea. "Top floor please." he said. The elevator gave a jerk and then quickly zoomed upwards until it stopped abruptly and opened. Harry stepped out into a wide and more magical reception area.

  
  


Halls on either side led to large areas full of cubicles where information and administrative functions were carried out. Harry didn't spare a long glance before he made his way over to the empty reception desk. A small sign on it announced that the secretary was on lunch break and any visitors should take a seat and wait for Mr. Andrews's convenience. 

  
  


Harry shrugged and took a seat in one of the plush waiting room chairs. He took the chance to examine the various pictures along the walls. They mostly depicted landscapes rather than people. Raised voices from the ajar door caught his attention before he could take in more. The plate on the door read, "Harold C. Andrews, Secretary of Magic."

  
  


One of the voices was all too familiar. Harry mentally groaned before he remembered his disguise. Percy Weasley wouldn't recognize him. Harry concentrated on what was being said. Percy was now speaking in a very pompous voice. "I believe that you fail to realize the importance of this situation Secretary Andrews. The Minister of Magic demands that you scan all people entering the country and to seize and deport Harry Potter if he is found."

  
  


"I think that you fail to recognize who I am and who this country is Mr. Wheezer," came another voice. 

  
  


Harry leaned forward and covered his mouth to keep himself from laughing out loud. Andrews was mocking Percy! Whoever he was, he reminded Harry of Sirius and Lupin, as well as the twins. Harry doubted that Percy would get any co-operation at all.

  
  


"Harry Potter is a crack-pot and a murderer," Percy replied hotly. "He is a danger to the world and a troublemaker. I am a junior assistant to the British Minister of Magic and you will show me the proper respect I deserve."

  
  


"You go and tell Mr. Fudge to mind his own business!" shouted Mr. Andrews. "In fact, he ought to be shot! He's better off than you though, you brown-noser!" Harry raised his eyebrows.

  
  


"I beg your pardon!" Percy said in a very offended and snobbish tone as if he was looking down at Andrews. "What is this term, 'shot?'"

  
  


Harry could imagine Mr. Andrews standing up and throttling Percy at this point. "You British snobs wouldn't know would you?! All that pure-blood nonsense and trying to separate yourselves from Muggles! GET OUT OF MY OFFICE WEAZY!" 

  
  


At that point Percy must have given up because he dashed out of the office and Apparated without giving Harry, in his disguise, a second look.

  
  


Harry snickered slightly and suddenly Mr. Andrews stepped out of his office laughing hysterically. He took a moment to study Andrews. He was fairly tall and was actually older than Harry imagined, sixties or seventies at least. He was clean shaven and his hair was only barely going gray from it's former brown. 

  
  


When he noticed Harry his laughter was cut off. He turned and looked at Harry, studying him very carefully as if he saw something but could not put his finger on it. The gaze reminded Harry of Dumbledore's piercing sort of look. Finally after a moment he spoke. "Hello Mr. Potter."

*

  
  


Dumbledore stood and was about to address himself to the gathered Weasley family and various members of the Order when Arthur Weasley and Nymphadora Tonks both rushed into the kitchen at Grimmauld place at nearly the same instant. Dumbledore gave them a swift and questioning look.

  
  


Tonks who was heavily panting answered Dumbledore's inquiring gaze first. "After a lot of threatening and manipulating I finally got those retarded goblins at Gringotts to release the papers to me." She took them out of a pocket and handed them to Dumbledore. "The Potter Estates, listed and valued. They also mentioned that he withdrew a copy of the same things."

  
  


"Did he say anything to them about where he was going or what he was up to?" Dumbledore asked in a voice stretched thin with patience as he scrutinized the list.

  
  


Tonks shook her head negatively. "If he did they wouldn't tell me."

  
  


Dumbledore turned to Mr. Weasley, "Arthur, were you able to find out anything at the Ministry?"

  
  


"Not really," replied Mr. Weasley. "My friends said that Fudge sent Percy to lean a little on the American Secretary for support and help. Apparently Andrews flat out refused to even listen to Percy."

  
  


A few faces grew grim at the mention of Percy. They had encountered some trouble with him at the end of Harry's fourth year. "Is there any chance that he would be in the United States?" Mrs. Weasley asked in a very emotional voice. It seemed that she now looked upon Harry as one of her own.

  
  


"There's one possibility," Dumbledore said as he examined the list that Tonks had acquired. "Creswell Manor in the United States is owned by Harry. He also seems to have a rather sizeable bank account there. His grandparents spent a brief period of time there and invested some money rather wisely."

  
  


"I'd bet anything that he went to the U.S." Ginny cut in.

  
  


Everyone paused and looked at her in surprise. She flushed at bit and sat back as Hermione took up the torch. "Yes, I think it is rather probable Professor. Is there any chance of this Mr. Andrews helping us to locate Harry? Surely he would understand about You-Know Who."

  
  


"Why would he care about Harry in the first place?" Ron said cut in. "He doesn't know about war or evil like You-Know-Who. He's probably like every other politician who runs government. All he's concerned about is himself and possibly the United States."

  
  


Dumbledore looked at Ron gravely. "I believe that your are mistaken Ronald. There once was a Dark wizard named Grindlewald who rose to extraordinary power and influenced the Muggle world. I defeated Grindlewald but it was Harold C. Andrews, a U.S. Senator at that time who awoke the rest of the world to the danger. He fought Grindlewald just as much as I did."

  
  


Ron nodded, slightly abashed. "I see, so I suppose he knows what's going on then."

  
  


Dumbledore smiled sagely, "I would suppose he does. Perhaps more than the Order in fact. The MCIA has often made the Department of Mysteries look like a pack of imbeciles. 

*

  
  


Late that night Dumbledore had another meeting at an obscure tavern that was found as a sort of rest stop from one magical village to another. Over the centuries it had basically lost its identity and was known to few.

  
  


"Would you be able to find someone discreetly and then deliver my message to him? As well as avoid attention from the wrong sort of people?" Dumbledore asked a darkly cloaked figure urgently. Harry's absence was more distressing and serious than Dumbledore had dared let on to anyone.

  
  


"Easily," replied the disguised figure in a rasping whisper.

  
  


Dumbledore seemed to be carefully weighing his options. Finally he decided. He withdrew a sealed letter from his cloak. "See that this is delivered to Harry Potter then. Do not open it, it is protected. You will likely find him in the United States as a visitor or immigrant."

  
  


The cloaked figure stretched forth his gloved hand and took the letter and laid it on the table. Dumbledore took a small purse filled with Galleons from his cloak and also handed it to the figure.

  
  


After Dumbledore left, Blade set the letter and purse from Dumbledore on the table, took another letter and purse from his cloak and also set them on the table. He sat at the table and considered them. It had just been proven that he was the best. Both Voldemort and Dumbledore had sought him out. Now it was up to him to decide which of those two were the best. 

  
  


It was impossible to follow both of their instructions.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
